An illusion - nothing more
by Blackheart Dracon
Summary: Set during the Siege of Minas Tirith. Faramir is in delirium.


Title: An illusion – nothing more

Author: Blackheart Dracon

Fandom: LotR (book based)

Characters: Boromir & Faramir

Genre: Missing scene

Summary: Set during the Siege of Minas Tirith. Faramir is in delirium.

Rating: T (just for cause)

Disclaimer: The characters are still not mine.

_It isn't real, it isn't true. An illusion – nothing more… © Otherland. Blind Guardian_

"Faramir!" a voice called.

Faramir blinked. Around him were the emerald woods of Ithilien, his most beloved place in the world. A smile touched his lips as the Man looked at the high trees, their branches moving in the warm spring wind. The birds were singing and the forest flowers were blooming, and there was peace living in the place. Faramir wondered how he got there. He remembered his grief while leaving Henneth Annun, leaving Ithilien, leaving Osgiliath… He remembered the battle at Rammas Echor. The battle and then…

"Faramir!" the voice called again.

Faramir frowned in concern, turned… And froze.

Opposite him on a grey stone sat another Man, clothed like for a long journey, his garments stained with dirt and his cloak covered in road dust. His head was down so that his face was shaded with his long dark hair. Yet the wind was blowing, it played not with the singular strands.

"Boromir..?" Faramir exhaled.

The whole figure of the Man radiated with so deep weariness that Faramir had to fight himself not to run to his side begging to tell him what had happened. Faramir had well known _what_ had happened.

"You had died" he said blankly and then thought of something else. "Does that mean I'm dead too?"  
Boromir shook his head.

"No, Little Brother" he answered gently, "You are not yet. And that's why I'm permitted to be here"

Faramir took a step closer. At first he thought that the figure of his brother was some delusion of the Nameless One sent here to claim him to the Shadow. But for what Boromir spoke made clear he was no illusion.

"Why?" Faramir asked quietly, getting down next to his brother. "Why did you go and left me behind?"

"I had to" said Boromir simply and then at last turned to his brother.

Faramir found himself looking into the grey eyes he had been looking into since early childhood. At first they seemed the same – on the surface what looked like impenetrable stone wall, deeper in Faramir for once more in his life found worry and sorrow. And even deeper fear lay.

Faramir frowned. He had seen his brother frightened – frightened for his Men, frightened for his Little Brother, for his Father, Uncle… Never for himself. And it was the thing of which Faramir cursed Boromir in thoughts and aloud. Yet now, inter the common worry for others there was self-fright, and it could be seen.

"Where are you, Boromir?" Faramir whispered looking up at his face and reaching for his hand.

When their fingers almost touched, Boromir jerked his palm back.

"You must go back" he exclaimed. "You need to go back"

"I'm not going anywhere" said Faramir stubbornly.

Boromir's face twisted in pain.

"Listen to me, Little Brother" he whispered almost pleadingly. "You can't do anything for me. I'm dead, and that is for you to live with"

"But if I don't want to live?" asked Faramir suddenly.

Boromir's eyes flickered with disbelieving shock.

"What if you don't want to live?" he echoed. "Do you know what is happening out there?"

He made an uncertain gesture.

"There is war" answered Faramir.

"Your country needs you, Little Brother!" Boromir looked at him in despair. "Gondor needs you, when…"

"It needs _you_!" cut off Faramir, "It's you to be the Captain-General, it's you to fill the Men with hope, it's your place to be with them!"

Boromir gritted his teeth. "Stop talking in our Father's words. You know well enough it's not true!"

"Boromir… our Father needs _you_, not me" Faramir sighed, "And we both know it well enough"

"Our Father is dead, Faramir" dropped Boromir.

For a time Faramir just looked at his elder brother.

"What?" he managed at last.

"Our Father is dead, Little Brother" Boromir repeated. "He died of grief of the loss of _both_ of his Sons"

Thoughts rushed in Faramir's mind, but none did he utter aloud. Instead he asked:

"So is it that you have met with him?"

"No" answered the Captain-General in a heavy voice and glanced down at the forest ground.

"Boromir!" Faramir clenched his hands into fists.

He lifted his eyes again. Now there was nothing but cold weariness in them.

"Go, Little Brother" he said. "Your time is not come yet"

"How can I leave you here?" Faramir whispered.

"I'd performed a deed for which I'm punished" he said blankly and added slowly, "I've lost everything that made me myself"

"It's not true" Faramir protested. "I have… I have seen your body, Boromir. And your face was peaceful, and I knew that you had died well, achieving some good thing…"

Boromir sneered bitterly.

"I'll find my way, Little Brother" he said. "It's time for you to find yours"

"Boromir…" Faramir started.

The Captain-General suddenly rose to his feet.

"Turn and look!" he commanded pointing his finger at something behind his brother.

Faramir obeyed slowly turning with his back to Boromir and thinking if he would simply fade away.

But what Faramir saw made him forget everything and just gaze in horror.

He didn't know how, but he was back to Minas Tirith. He was standing at the parapet of the Sixth Level.

It was completely dark. Dark with that ghastly reddish glow as it has been at the time of the battle at Rammas Echor. There was no stir of wind. The air was still and stiff.

But the sight Faramir's eyes were locked onto was down the walls of the Sixth Level.

The First Level was on fire. Here or there catapults from beyond Minas Tirith's walls shot a blazing missile which exploded with flames in the streets with roaring sounds.

There was battle on the walls. Small figures of Men, fighting a desperate fight with an outnumbering enemy. Their silhouettes seemed unnaturally precise on the lit background.

And beyond the walls there was a dark mass of enemies. Faramir couldn't see any spot of the Pelennor which would have been empty of them. Hope faded in his soul as he looked, unable to turn away.

"You see why you should come back?" Boromir's voice sounded from behind of him.

"Is it… reality?" Faramir couldn't hide his trembling voice.

"It is, Little Brother" the Captain-General answered.

He came into the light and Faramir could see no shadow from him. Another step, and Boromir stood near Faramir, his gloved hands gripping the parapet.

"Don't say you wish to watch it all together with me from here" Boromir joked in grim tones.

Faramir pressed down a sigh. All his soul now rushed to the defenders' side, to stand by them and to fight to any bitter end that awaited them. But…

"How am I supposed to leave you here?" he asked for once more looking with his grey eyes at his brother.

"You need to, Faramir" Boromir answered. "Your Country's need is bigger then…"

He cut himself off and continued:

"Your Country needs you more than anyone else"

"But, Boromir…" Faramir reached and at last clasped his hand.

It seemed like a cold arrow shot him through. Fury, despair, shame, determination and suffering followed one another as Faramir gasped and searched for breath and Boromir tore away from his brother taking a few steps back.

"Stay away from me!" he brought his hands in front of him as in a gesture of infirmity and an attempt to keep his brother safe.

"What happened to you?" whispered Faramir in frustration. "What happened to you, Boromir? Come back with me. I need you. Gondor needs you. Where are you?"

Pain splashed in the Captain-General's grey eyes as he took another step back and reached the shadows where no torches burned. He seemed to start fading, and when Faramir tried to reach him, already he was no longer there.

"I don't know" answered the emptiness.


End file.
